


part to meet again

by Anonymous



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Age Regression Due To Trauma, Brother/Brother Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22001965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A final departure.
Relationships: Torgrim/Atli (Vinland Saga)
Kudos: 1
Collections: Anonymous





	part to meet again

**Author's Note:**

> This time I think I've really taken this series as far as it can go. Follows the other ones in the fix-it series (most recently [silver, gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21769363)) and uses original characters established mostly in [things surpassing strange](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21622459) and [little niceties](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21753010). @ vincestsaga on twitter for more brocontent ✌️.

"Honestly," Hallwarth says, the afternoon their father dies, "old couples usually follow each other pretty quickly. When they're like that, anyway."

Jutta and Palni both know it's not their mother he's talking about. It's the first time it's been spoken out loud in their house, that their father and uncle are too close in every way, but it's been an unspoken truth since childhood. And the two of them have given up all pretense in the last weeks of Dad's illness, touching each other's faces and talking back and forth in soft voices that exclude the rest of the room.

"You'd better take him, Jutta," says Palni. "You're his favorite, after Dad."

Jutta nods. "I already promised Dad."

"Make sure he's at the funeral," her father begged her a week ago, when he couldn't put it off any longer. "He was there when I was born. I can't go alone." Her uncle is asleep in his chair beside the sickbed that's now clearly on its way to deathbed.

"I will."

"And you'll take care of him," he says, searching her face desperately, eyes too bright in his face. "One of you. I never wanted to leave him alone like this."

"He'll be taken care of. I know you would, if you could."

Her father sighs with relief, not asking after her or her brothers or her mother. But then, they're all settled, in their own ways.

The younger version of her uncle has always been something like her father's firstborn, anyway, ever since Jutta can remember. The child his brother gave him. A greater worry than any of the others, and prioritized more and more as she and her brothers grew more self-sufficient, the way their uncle never will be.

Their mother does her duty as she always has, bringing food and mopping their father's brow. Their father thanks her and returns to his brother, as he always has, talking and joking and even flirting with the man who refuses to be moved from his side. Their uncle's answers grow shorter and more sparse as the days go by, and his grip on his brother's hand tightens desperately.

Eventually Jutta insists on taking over. She's not sure how painful this is for her mother—they're not a love match, and this is hardly something new—but it doesn't seem right for these to be her mother's last memories of her own marriage.

Uncle Torgrim kisses the hand he's holding a few times, in full view of everyone, and Jutta believes he'd do it even if the doctor hadn't been sent away by now. Dad's eyes flit over to her once, that she sees, but his gaze is disinterested; it's more reflex than anything. All he does is hold up his other hand when his brother leans for his face, warding him off from breathing in whatever it is that's killing him.

She doubts it's anything contagious, or they'd all have it by now. It's just one of those illnesses that comes along to oblige when your body is old and tired and ready to go. But of course neither of them would believe that Dad's body could betray them like that.

Whatever it is, it's weakened his body so much that the rest of him is ready to be consumed by his brother's desperate need for his attention, and he puts up no resistance. They both need reminding to eat and rest, and there's a lot of talking in low voices about things only they remember.

"Brother," Dad says at last. "I need to sleep now."

"You can't sleep." Her uncle squeezes his hand tighter. "How can you sleep when it's not even dark out? It's not time yet."

"Please, love. I'm worn out."

Jutta pries Uncle Torgrim's grip loose, one finger at a time, and he doesn't resist, just sinks back into his chair, shaking his head slowly.

"Thank you." Her father's eyes are closed already as his arm droops to the mattress. She's not sure if he's speaking to her, or thinks his brother let go on his own. It's half an hour later when the rise and fall of his chest stops and a mirror held over his face remains clear and unfogged. Uncle Torgrim stares into the air the entire time, blank, in the chair where he's still sitting.

When they manage to wake him, he's his other self again. And they all know, without saying it, that he won't be changing back this time. Dad's been carried out by now, and the funeral's tomorrow. There's been time enough to arrange it.

Jutta gives her uncle the ring she takes off Dad's finger, the one he always thought of as his real wedding ring, and he squeezes it tight in his hand without saying anything. The one hidden in Uncle Torgrim's box is the one that goes with Dad in his grave. Later she sees her uncle looking for that one anxiously and regrets it, but it's too late now. And she thinks Dad probably appreciates it, somewhere.

"Does this count as dying at the same time, you reckon?" Palni asks.

"I think it's because he's still alive that he has to be like this," Jutta says. "He just can't bear to be out here."

"It's all a bit fucked up, innit?" says Hallwarth. "You ever hear of brothers getting like this over each other? I mean, I'd be sad if either of you died, but not exactly to the point of turning back into a kid."

"Well, yeah, they always were that." Palni shrugs. "Did you see him at the end, I think he'd've carried the bed off somewhere just the the two of them, if he could have managed it. Never mind the rest of us."

Their uncle cries at the funeral, and a little bit every night after that. They have to turn him away when the fire starts and keep him facing the other way, turning around occasionally for glimpses of their own father's funeral service. It's hard not being annoyed with him, for all their father always reminded them he can't help himself when he's like this. Finally their mother comes over, giving up her space and motioning them back in, and Uncle Torgrim actually lets himself be held and cries on her for the rest of the service.

The night Jutta takes him home after the funeral, she introduces him to her youngest, just three, hoping they'll get along, and Torgrim looks at the boy's dark hair and then down at her, unhappily. "This isn't Atli."

"What do you mean?" she asks, startled. _Atli_ has always been her father. Other adult men—even her brothers, as they grew up—are glanced at, seen to be _not Atli_ , and generally discarded as unworthy of notice. Not children.

"My brother. Where is he? He's too little to be alone."

He's never mentioned a brother when he's like this, in all the years Jutta's known him. It used to hurt Dad a bit, the way he forgot. She can only shake her head. "I'm sure he's with your parents. He'll be safe with them."

"He belongs with me. He's _my_ brother."

Jutta wonders if her uncle ever learned how to start saying what he really means. If he did, it was probably only to Dad.

"He's scared to try again," Dad said once, when Jutta asked why Uncle Torgrim doesn't hang around much with the other village men. Not even the nicer ones who've gotten used to how he is. "He was always popular with—" Dad cuts himself off. "Well, so much has happened to him." He never says what it is, exactly, that's happened to his brother.

"I didn't want to," her uncle says one evening as he's being put to bed. Jutta's own children have to wait until she's done with him, but she's got the routine down fairly well at this point. "He was meant to see sense."

"Who was?" He's never spoken of this, either. Not in front of Jutta, at least. He hardly ever speaks about the past at all, in this state. "You mean Dad?"

Uncle Torgrim shakes his head slowly. He's finished going grey in the weeks since Dad went, and the lost look on his face is so heartbreakingly unfitted to his age that Jutta forgives him all the day's mischief. "It wasn't s'posed to go like that. It was all worked out, and they wouldn't listen." He turns to her suddenly. "Where's my brother? He can't fight without me."

"I'm looking for him," she assures him. But it's obvious he doesn't believe her, and he looks away bitterly and goes to sleep facing the wall.

By days he's sulky and badly behaved. It's a miserable time for everyone, and they're all relieved for him a month or so after that, when he finally wears himself out and doesn't wake one morning. The ring Dad always wore is with him in bed, and it goes with him as a grave offering.

"He was just like that when your dad was missing, you know," their mother says. "Right before he woke up the first time. It was awful to live through, especially worrying about you kids the way I was, but I suppose I always felt sorry for him after that. Getting like that over one person. Your father was just as besotted, in his own way, but he could get along alone from day to day." She sighs. "I guess I shouldn't have brought you up watching all that, but they were never as bad as those last few weeks. We thought you wouldn't notice. Or told ourselves, anyway."

"Hard not to." Then, to ease her mother's conscience, she adds, "He was talking about something near the end. Something went wrong, and somebody wouldn't do what they were supposed to. He said Dad couldn't fight without him."

"Oh," her mother says. "That must be whatever happened, before they came home. There was some talk, you know, when they did, because it was just them out of all the other men. But it was clear he wasn't faking, and no one could ever figure out what would leave them like that, if they'd pulled something dirty over on either side. Unharmed but with Torgrim in the state he was. Your father never let anyone speak of it near him. He must have been ready to go, if he was talking about that."

"He didn't say that much. It must have been about as bad for him as losing Dad." It's strange to think that whatever happened, she and her brothers wouldn't exist without it. Jutta wonders if in some way her uncle is also responsible for their birth. Three parents at once.

"They did the work that needed doing," her mother says, in answer to her unasked question. "Even if it took the both of them. It's the most you can hope for in a man."

"You wouldn't have preferred... well, a love marriage?"

A smile twists the corner of her mother's mouth. "Well, someone in the house had one. You took care of the rings yourself, didn't you?" She holds up her own hand, ringless for the past few months. "Perhaps it's unwifely, but I think I can live without being the one dragged after him into the grave."


End file.
